Passing in the Night
by MaggieMayI
Summary: "They'd been dancing circles endlessly around each other, choosing denial over confrontation. The push and the pull slowly wore them down, until one night, neither of them could take it anymore." Set in the near future following 1x12. Rated M for adulty reasons.
_A/N:_ _so…. apparently this is what happens when I'm hit with too much Jeller angst._

* * *

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,  
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;  
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,  
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

\- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

* * *

It's an ache deep within her soul, a magnetism that she can't explain. The insatiable need to seek the truth – to find out who she is – consumes her... despite the fact that it continually pulls her further and further away from him.

She tells herself it isn't personal, but she knows he won't take it any other way. Not two weeks ago she could tell him anything, her new life was an open book. But now… everything had changed. They both knew it, but neither could bring themselves to talk about it.

She was too scared to tell him the truth. Too scared of what it all implied. Her mind ran through the endless possibilities – of how he would react, of how the pieces would fall. But everything ended up the same… her cut off from him, and cut off from learning the whole truth about her past.

He was too scared to lose her. He'd convinced himself that if he let her be, if he let her work it out on her own, she'd eventually come around. But as the days passed, she only grew more distant. He knew if he pushed her, he'd only drive her further away, so he opted to say nothing, to do nothing.

The air between them whenever they were near each other was electric. She longed for his kind words and his comforting embrace. He wanted to see her smile, to not worry so much. They'd been dancing circles endlessly around each other, choosing denial over confrontation. The push and the pull slowly wore them down, until one night, neither of them could take it anymore.

He's on her front step, soaked to the bone from the torrential storm that was dying down outside. She opened the door and he instantly walked past her, knowing it wasn't in her to send him away.

The tension was palpable – air thick with everything that was unsaid. Her fingers itched to break it, to break him down, because he always seemed so strong, even when she was in pieces. But she knows it's a farce, can see it in his eyes. The longing that matches her own never fails to escape her wondering gaze. He can't hide the hurt or the need any better than she can.

Saying nothing, she closed the door behind him, and taking his hand in hers, led him into the darkness.

He mindlessly followed, until they reached the foot of her bed. His hand squeezed hers then, forcing her to turn to him. His eyes were alive with questions, like 'what are you not telling me,' and 'why have you been pushing me away?' But like everything else that existed outside of this moment, his inquires could wait. He knows that's not why he's here… and so does she.

With an imperceptible shake of her head, her hand left his to grasp the hem of his shirt. She dragged it slowly up, inch by inch, revealing his skin. His eyes never left hers – perfectly content to watch as she drank in the revelation that was him. Her fingertips scratched along the hardness of his chest as she drew the fabric higher, surprised at the warmth of his skin compared to the dampness of his shirt. She lifted it up and over his head then, and let it drop unceremoniously to the floor. Her feather-light touch returned, exploring the planes of his shoulders and back before grazing down the length of his arms.

Her head cocked inquisitively to the side as she studied his skin reacting to her touch. The small hairs of his arms rose to meet her nimble fingers, and he broke out in goose bumps, even though he was far from cold. His breath hitched and his eyes fluttered closed as she skimmed a particularly sensitive spot on the inside of his forearm. With a quick smile she categorized the moment, and his reaction, depositing it in her ever-growing bank of memories.

Her hands left him then, and his skin instantly ached to be touched again. His eyes opened to meet hers and he saw her smiling in the semi-darkness. She was enjoying this – enjoying unraveling him. But what she didn't realize was how tightly he was wound, and what would happen to them both when he broke.

He couldn't think about that though because her hands fell to her waist then, and reached for her tank. She started dragging it up, exposing the intricate designs that were as much of a puzzle as she was, but he stopped her, placing his hands lightly on her arms.

"Let me," he whispered, and her hands obediently fell to her side. He reached for the thin fabric of her shirt, and mimicked her earlier movements. Both now bare to the waist, his eyes seared into hers before dropping lower.

"Beautiful," he murmured as the light trace of his fingers replaced the cool air kissing her skin. He started at her hips, gliding slowly upward, tracing nonsensical patterns that she could decode without even thinking. Her breath caught when he paused at the valley between her breasts. He cupped them, weighing their fullness, reveling in the fact that they fit perfectly in the palms of his hands. His fingers inched higher then, grazing her collarbone, skimming across her shoulders before brushing over the scar at the base of her neck. He pulled her close, dipping his head so that his tongue could trace his favorite tattoo – the bird endlessly in flight. As his teeth moved to graze the sensitive skin, his fingers slowly returned to her chest, and he smiled against her when her nipples hardened under his nimble touch.

Her eyes closed and her head fell back when his lips left her neck to take one peak into his mouth. He pressed the flat of his tongue to the hardened bud, while still lightly rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. Her belly squeezed at the warmth that spread inside her. She could feel each stroke of his tongue all the way down to the tips of her toes.

"Kurt," she pled more than sighed when his mouth switched from one to the other. Her fingers grasped at his hair, pulling him closer… his delicate onslaught slowly driving her mad.

Trembling at his every touch, she pulled his head back suddenly, scared to be losing control so quickly, but he wouldn't let her escape. His eyes took a moment to take her in – her rosy cheeks, half-parted lips, the rapid rise and fall of her chest – before descending on her once again.

Where their first kiss out on the street all those weeks ago had been light and tentative, the second was filled with everything they'd been holding back. His mouth captured hers almost violently. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, tugging, before his tongue pushed past it, both exploring and savoring the taste of her at the same time.

They volleyed for dominance, each trying to match the other's fervor, until they realized that it wasn't a contest.

When he pulled her fully against him, she moaned at the skin-to-skin contact. She dragged her lips away and rested her forehead against his, relishing in the feel of his chest pressed to hers. She knew then that there was nothing else in the world she needed other than feeling all of him against all of her.

"Kurt," she whispered, still trying to steady her breath, "take off your pants."

He laughed, and her heart both warmed and ached because he smiled like she hadn't seen him smile in weeks.

She pushed back to sit on the edge of the bed and watched intently as he undid his belt and pulled off his pants and boxers in one fell swoop. He stood in front of her then, gloriously naked, and she couldn't help but stare.

He was achingly beautiful. From the shy smile that reached his eyes, to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest, to the sharp angle of his hips and what was nestled between them – she drank it all in.

Her eyes eventually returned to his, and saying nothing, she pushed herself back onto the bed and beckoned him forward.

He climbed onto the bed and hovered over her. His lips captured hers once again as he settled between her legs. Her hips bucked involuntarily at the feel him hard and heavy against her. Her hands reached for his cheeks deepening the kiss, then her fingers wandered lower, skimming his back, and around his waist, until they wrapped fully around him.

He groaned into her mouth as his hips thrust forward into her palm. She continued to slide her hand up and down, which forced him to break their kiss.

"Jane," he moaned as he fought to steady his breath, "that might not be the best idea…"

Smirking, she tightened her grip.

A shiver ran down her spine as his low growl filled her ear. His hand reached to thwart her movements, pulling it away to bring it to rest above her head, fingers entwined with his. He found her other hand then, capturing it like he did the first. His lips descended back to hers, before moving lower.

She cried out as he lightly bit one of her nipples, his teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh, before his tongue soothingly replaced it. He gave the same attention to the other, before moving lower.

"Don't move," he whispered when his hands could no longer reach hers. He left them to idle above her head as his reached for the waist of her pajama pants. She lifted her hips as he dragged the last of her barriers down her legs. Her heart started beating faster as she watched his gaze move from slowly her toes all the way up to her eyes.

The raw hunger she saw in them made her shudder. He looked like a starved animal that had finally cornered its prey.

His hands lightly touched her ankles, and then slid slowly upward as he climbed back on the bed. When he passed her knees, his fingers turned to put slight pressure on her inner thighs. Unable to deny him, she opened herself up. He slid his arms underneath her thighs then, and his palms came to rest on her hips. She could feel his breath against her most sensitive skin, and he laughed again when she started squirming.

"Please," she half begged as her hips continued to gravitate towards his mouth. Never able to deny her anything, he inched himself forward.

She gasped when he ran the tip of his nose ever so lightly against her delicate folds, and she moaned loudly when he replaced it with his tongue, which immediately sought out her sensitive bud. He lapped at her clit, alternating between light, fast strokes and rolling his tongue languidly from one side to the other.

She tried as hard as she could to keep her hands above her head, but she needed to touch him, to bring him closer. Her palm pressed to his cheek, and her fingers wrapped around his ear holding him in place.

One of his hands left her hip then to bury first one finger, then two, deep into her warmth. He curled his fingers, stroking gently, each thrust taking him deeper.

"Oh god," she rasped as she felt her belly tighten. Her heels dug into the bed as his tongue and fingers brought her closer to the edge. Suddenly, despite his palm still holding her steady, her hips lifted off the bed and her breath caught in her throat.

She froze for one single moment before everything inside her shattered. She convulsed with abandon as he helped her to ride out the storm. He felt her pulsating around him as his fingers continued to drive deep inside of her. As her orgasm waned, he slowed his ministrations, until the only movement in the room was the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

She moaned in protest when he pulled his fingers from her, but she didn't remain empty for long. He ran his lips lazily over the expanse of her stomach and chest as he moved above her once again. Her thighs hugged his, drawing him in as he settled on top of her. His hands brushed a few errant strands of hair from her face as his lips lightly touched hers.

The taste of herself on him was intoxicating. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close, devouring him. She knew she could be completely happy for the rest of her life if she could just stay here, kissing him, but he had other ideas.

His hips shifted slightly and suddenly he was pressed against her entrance. Her hand reached down to guide him, and in one long stroke he was suddenly inside her.

For a moment they both held their breath, neither able to move. She memorized everything then, the feel of him inside her, surrounding her… he was as close as he could be, but she wanted him impossibly closer.

She groaned as his hips started to move, first slowly, and then steadily faster. His lips returned to his favorite spot on her neck, and her fingertips dug into his back, driving him harder into her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, bringing him deeper. He matched her thrust for thrust – their rhythm an intricate dance that felt like they'd been practicing for years.

Suddenly, without warning, he flipped them over, while still staying deep inside her. She groaned at the new sensation of being on top – when his hips pushed into her he hit just the right spot.

She grabbed for his hands and entwined her fingers with his, using the leverage to push her further down. She stopped briefly for a languid kiss, before the rotation of his hips insisted they keep going.

As he drove into her, his rhythm started to get erratic – she could see he was getting close. Wanting to topple with him, she extracted her hand from his to reach for her clit, but he pushed her hand away and pressed his fingers against her. She moaned in earnest as each downward stroke trapped his fingers between their pelvic bones. The pressure was exquisite.

She could feel the electricity bubbling to the surface once again when he suddenly flipped them back over. Keeping his fingers in place, he drove into her with abandon. She arched up with a cry just as he buried himself deep, letting out a strangled moan.

She wrapped her arms around him tight as he lost himself inside her. His ragged breath was hot on her neck and he whispered her name like a mantra as he slowly came back down. She ran her fingers lightly up and down his back while placing light kisses on his shoulder and neck, relishing in his full weight against her.

When his breathing was back under control, he rolled off of her, bringing her with him. Lying on her side, she pressed as much of herself up against him as she could. Her head rested on his chest as her fingers ran lightly over his torso, and her leg lay heavy across his thighs. His arm was wrapped tightly around her shoulders, holding her steadily to him. He dropped a few stray kisses on her hairline as his fingers skimmed absently along her arm.

There were about a thousand things she could say… should say… as they lay there, but she said nothing.

Instead, she listened to his steady heartbeat and watched the rise and fall of his chest until he drifted off.

Closing her eyes, she quickly followed.

* * *

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

Jane jolted awake, instantly slapping the offensive noise. The clock read 5 a.m. Her head fell back to her pillow as the silence once again consumed the room. She closed her eyes… tried her best to go back to the dream she'd been pulled from… but it had already moved to the fringes of her memory.

The one thing she remembered clearly was the little boy's laugh as she'd chased him around the yard… that, and his crystal blue eyes full of light and love.

She rolled over then, to ask him if it had really happened, or if it was merely just a dream, but the bed was empty beside her.

He was gone.


End file.
